Prodigal
by Terin
Summary: Crossover between Dark Angel and Roswell. Read to find out the rest!
1. Once Upon a Laughter

Title: Prodigal  
  
Summary: Crossover between Roswell and Dark Angel. Read to find out the rest!  
  
Disclaimer: You know the drill: I Don't own, you don't sue (its not like I have anything you'd want anyway.)  
  
Author's Note: Okay, this is a post-pulse story. Everything in Roswell has happened except it's happened in 2020. Alex is alive, Tess is still there, Liz/Max, Michael/Maria, Max/Logan. So basically it's season 3 for Roswell and Season 2 for Dark Angel (after Harbor Lights). And yes, there is a virus, but we'll see what we can do about that. Okay, since there are two Max's in this story, Roswell Max will be in Italics, for the sake of non-confusion. This is my first posted story, so read and review!  
  
And now, onto our scheduled fanfic...  
  
Part 1: Once Upon a Laughter  
  
Seattle, Washington  
  
"Who's that?" Logan studied the picture in the newspaper that Max was examining carefully.  
  
"Oh, no one in particular. Just someone I thought I knew."  
  
Flash: Max and the other X-5s are in the woods, running from Manticore. One of the girls is shot by a guard and goes down, leaving a trail of hot red blood in the snow. "Nat!" Max cries out to the girl, and starts to turn around, only to be pulled back by Zack. "We have to go on! There's nothing we can do for her." Max looks back to see a little figure motionless and slumped on the ground. On the back of her neck is a barcode.   
  
"But it isn't her." The finality of the statement was clear, Logan knew not to question her any further.  
  
Roswell, New Mexico  
  
Maria cursed, her lazy best friend had fallen asleep. "Liz. Liz! Come on Liz! I'm about two seconds away from pouring a glass of water down your back!"  
  
"Mmmm, Leave me alone, `Ria. I don't feel good." Grumbled a groggy Liz.  
  
"No. Way. Your dad wanted this place spotless by the time he got back. That was two hours ago! It's like midnight! You know he'll be back here soon, and with one look at this mess he'll ground you and fire me! You pick this of all times to sleep?!"  
  
"Just give me five more seconds. After all, it's not my fault that dad had to hire the Crashdown out for a party!"  
  
"Okay, but I warn you Lizzie, I'm gonna start playing with your hair!" Maria new that would do the trick; Liz hated people playing with her hair, and adamantly refused to let anyone touch her hair and neck. Maria scooped some of Liz's long, flowing brown hair off of her neck, and as she did, she gave a startled jump backwards. Liz had a tattoo. Liz, her very best friend in the entire world, the Liz that told her everything, had a tattoo on her neck. A tattoo of a barcode, no less. As she leaned down to look closer at it, Liz whipped around, and, with lightning reflexes Maria never knew Liz had, grabbed her wrist.  
  
"What are you doing?" Liz asked, looking extremely angry with her best friend.  
  
"Oh, don't try to `what are you doing' me!" yelled Maria, equally as angry. "I saw it, I saw your tattoo! Liz, how could you not tell me you had one? I'm your best friend! When did you get it? Why? What is it?"  
  
"Whoa, slow down, `Ria, your ahead of yourself. I wanted to tell you. I meant to tell you. I got it when you where going through that whole `bad girl' stage. You know how you got that fake nose ring and lied to Max and Michael about where we were going? I decided to take it a step further and get a tattoo. It was a spur of the moment thing, and the next thing I know, we're off in the woods and back to being the devoted girlfriends. I guess I was embarrassed. I mean, it isn't very characteristic of me. I haven't even told Max, I just figured that I'd get it removed before anyone noticed."  
  
"Wow. I didn't mean to get all bitchy with you back there, it's just I figured that if anyone was to get a tattoo, it'd be me."  
  
"Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't tell you, it's just that I didn't want to make a big deal about it, you know? But you have to promise not to tell anyone about it, `kay?"  
  
"I'm your girl. But you might want to tell Max about it. Who knows? He might find it incredibly sexy. I'm surprised he hasn't found it already, what with you two getting all hot and heavy in the eraser room."  
  
"Yeah, well, he hasn't seen it yet, and I don't plan for him to. It might ruin my perfect `good girl' image. Anyway, it was just a crazy thing done in a moment of weakness. Can you imagine my dad seeing it? He'd totally flip!"  
  
"My lips are sealed. Just one question before I go and clean up the mess that those pigs made in the front room...Why a barcode?"  
  
"Oh, you know me and my love of all things mathematical. I guess I figured that barcodes stand for numbers, and since um, I guess it was because I like numbers so much or something...May I re-mention that this was a split second decision?"  
  
"Yeah, whatever you say, number girl." Maria muttered as she walked out of the room, rolling her eyes at her somewhat nerdy best friend.  
  
Liz gave a sigh of relief. She thought the time of lies was over, she no longer had to explain to her parents why she had run away from her `orphanage', no longer had to lie about who she was or where she came from. Anyway, Maria seemed to have bought the whole `moment of weakness' story.  
  
The point is that I'm not Nat any more. I'm Liz. I have a whole new life here and no-ones going to mess it up. All Manticore has is a cold trail--I've been here ten years and they have nothing to go on. Nothing at all. X5-391 doesn't exist anymore.  
  
It was then that Liz's eyes fell to the back page of the U.S. newspaper. She hadn't seen a newspaper in the while, Roswell had stopped publishing one after the pulse, and the national one's where extremely hard to get...not to mention extremely expensive to publish in. Yet there, on the back page, right under the birthday announcement of some rich 10-year-old named Cindy-Lou, was her picture. Small, but there none the less. A profile of her, with her hair pulled back, as it so rarely was. On the edge of her neck, visible only to her enhanced vision, Liz could see a set of lines. A barcode. Under the picture, the caption read: "Lizzie, our sweet baby, we took you into our home 10 years ago as a skinny little girl with her hair shaved off, only to see you now, more beautiful than ever. We love you and just wanted to thank you for the ten wonderful years you've given us."  
  
Right then, at that moment, Liz knew. The time of laughter was over. The safety net was gone. They would find her, and when they did, she didn't want to know what they would do to her...  
  
Roswell, New Mexico  
  
Flash:  
  
The van pulled up to the girl walking alone on the highway. A couple in their mid-thirties steps out. The woman talks to the girl in a sweet voice, as though she's talking to someone with a learning disability. "What's your name, sweetie?"  
  
"Na-`' No, she could not tell them her real name. Nat looked around, at the abandoned highway. Her eyes caught a billboard of Liz Claiborne. "Liz. My name is Liz."  
  
"Where are your parents?" Nat looked at the two adults who were questioning her in singsong voices, as though talking to a baby. They didn't look to smart, but seemed nice enough, and could be just what she needed: a family. A family would through off the Manticore agents; they would be looking for little kids who were all alone. They wouldn't look for kids who belonged to someone. Putting on her best con-artist smile, Liz said in a young and innocent voice, "I don't have parents. They died 5 years ago. I've been in an orphanage." Wait--even bad orphanages have records--the only records I have are made out to X5-391...Not exactly convenient. "Uhhh, it was a Mexican orphanage. My parents and I were on a vacation there when they died. It was a really bad orphanage, and they, uh, abused us. So I ran away. Am I in the U.S. yet?" she tried her best to look confused. The adults looked at each other in alarm. "It's okay, sweet heart, you're in America now, we'll try and work  
something out. Just get in the car. We'll take care of you."  
  
Authors Note: To anyone still reading: This is my first fic, so please review!! I'll have another chapter out tomarro! 


	2. And then reality slaps you in the face

Title: Prodigal  
  
Author: Terin  
  
Summary: Crossover between Roswell and Dark Angel. Read to find out the rest!  
  
Disclaimer: You know the drill: I Don't own, you don't sue (its not like I have anything you'd want anyway.)  
  
Author's Note: Okay, this is a post-pulse story. Everything in Roswell has happened except it's happened in 2020. Alex is alive, Tess is still there, Liz/Max*, Michael/Maria, Max/Logan. So basically it's season 3 for Roswell and Season 2 for Dark Angel (after Harbor Lights). And yes, there is a virus, but we'll see what we can do about that. Since my italics seem not to be working, Roswell Max will have a little star* by his name(I hope it comes out okay). This is my first posted story, so read and review!  
  
And now, onto our scheduled fanfic...  
  
Part 2: And then Reality Slaps You in the Face  
  
Seattle-Logan  
  
Logan picked up the newspaper that Max had carelessly discarded moments before she had walked out the door. The picture she had been looking at was of a young girl of about her age--pretty, and probably rich, considering her picture was in the announcements. He read the caption beneath it. It was then that he began adding two and two together. Shaved head...ten years ago...out of the blue adopted her. If there's even a possibility of this girl being who I think she, is, I better get to her, now, before Manticore does.  
  
I have to get out. I have to leave town and all my friends. I have to run again, and all because my stupid parents...no, it's not really their fault, they just thought they were doing something cute...must have cost them a fortune.  
  
"Lizzie, you found it!"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"The announcement. Happy birthday sweetheart! I can't believe it's been 10 years!"  
  
"Oh, yeah, the announcement. Great, yeah, thanks, uh, I really like it. God, it must have cost you guys a fortune."  
  
"Anything for our baby girl. I love you Lizzie." Ed Parker hugged his daughter tight.  
  
"I love you too, daddy." A single tear escaped from the eye of the girl once known as Nat and made it's way to the shirt of the man she had known as her father for half of her life. "I'll miss you, daddy," she whispered, too softly for anyone but herself to here. She pulled out of her father's embrace and went up stairs to pack her suitcase.  
  
Zack warned you. You knew this time would come. You knew that this would happen. You shouldn't have let yourself get close. It's always harder after that.  
  
Liz set her face with a firm military resolve. She'd always been the timid little girl at the back of the room, always afraid to let anyone penetrate that tough brick wall she'd set up around herself. No one had really come close. No one except for Max* Evans, a boy who in many ways was like herself--trying to survive in a tough post-pulse world, trying not to stand out, trying not to get dead. She'd been so close to telling him a million times--after all, he'd told her his secret, why shouldn't she trust him? It had been a million little things that had stopped her...first not knowing weather to trust him...later knowing that trusting him would bring the others: Isabel, Michael, Maria, Alex, Kyle, and even Tess into her world. And the truth was, for her it was a dangerous world. Far more dangerous than the demons they struggled to stay ahead of. Manticore was so much more powerful than anything the aliens had faced--Tupulski, Agent Pierce, the Secret Unit, and Nacedo, even  
the skins--their dangers paled in comparison to hers. She knew that the secret unit's funding had been fading, Nacedo was dead, Pierce was dead, and as for the skins, well, they'd just have to see what happened with that. But Manticore was relentless. It had surpassed all odds in its persistence in genetic engineering, and on finding Nat and her brothers and sisters. It had seemed virtually unharmed by the pulse--a catastrophe that according to Nacedo, who had infiltrated the secret unit's system, had done serious damage to the Unit. She knew that she would only be further endangering their already dangerous lives if she had told them.  
  
I won't let it happen again. I just won't get close to anyone. It was a mistake. It won't be repeated.  
  
**************************************************************************************   
  
Dear Max*,  
  
I want you to know that I loved you like I have never loved anyone before. You make me want to be a better person, and for that, I thank you. I'm leaving, and I doubt that I will ever come back. I would like nothing more than to stay here, but that would be selfish, and by doing so, I would not only endanger myself but the seven of you as well. I trust you, Max, which is why I am writing you this letter. I know that had I told you the secret I have carried for so long now you would have helped me bear its burden to the end, but the truth is, I love you to much to endanger you in that way. The seven of you have been a second family to me, and I was lucky to have you all in my life, if only for a little while. Tell my parents I love them, tell them that there was nothing they could have done to keep me from leaving. Don't tell them about this letter, just tell them that. Tell Maria that she'll always be my best friend in the entire world, tell Alex that he's been more like a  
brother to me than anyone has in a long time. Tell Isabel and Michael that I'll always remember them, and tell Kyle that he always had ways to make me laugh and smile. As for Tess, tell her that she won. Don't blame yourself for my leaving--you were the only thing that kept me here so long. Don't try and follow me; in fact, it's better if you forget me all together. I'll always love you and think about you,  
  
Love,  
  
Liz  
  
AN-okay, I know this was a really, really short chapter, but I'm working on a much longer one and should have it out by tomorrow. Reviews, please! 


	3. Square One

Part 3: Square One  
  
Authors Note: Thanks so much to all those people who reviewed. Keep it coming, guys!  
  
I decided to write this chapter in first person. I'll probably go back to 3rd with the thought-subtitles later, it's just that I was in the mood to write in someone's POV. Feedback, please!  
  
1 Arizona-Liz  
  
I stare out the bus window at the baking hot desert outside. I don't really know where I'm going, but I think I'll start off with somewhere with a cooler climate. That means West. I can take this bus as far as LA, and from there I'll see if I can hitch up to San Francisco. After that, I'm thinking Canada, but there's nothing definite in my calendar, you know? It's not really like I'm in danger by going alone; I can take care of myself—genetically enhanced powers—you know the drill.  
  
We stop in some poe-dunk town just west of Phoenix, at some crummy old gas station, and I get off, fishing around for the money I had in my pockets. I haven't eaten since yesterday morning—which is okay—X-5s can last for a while without food and water. Still, I need to go to the bathroom, and while I'm at it I figure I might as well get something to eat for later. As I'm looking at different candy bars the monitor to one of the TV's goes from a pre-pulse football game to a pair of eyes.  
  
(Do not attempt to adjust your sets. This is a streaming freedom video bulletin. The cable hack will last exactly sixty seconds. It cannot be traced, it cannot be stopped, and it is the only free voice left in this country. This is addressed to the X-5s out there in the world.)  
  
Barcodes fly across the screen in 1 hundredth of a second, too fast for any human eyes to see. The last barcode is flashing red, and matches the one my neck. I don't know if this is a trap, I don't know if I can trust Eyes Only, or why he would have any interest in me.  
  
(You are in danger. You can receive more information by contacting a traceless number.)  
  
Fourteen numbers flash on the screen for a millisecond, almost too fast for my transgenic eyes to catch. 3-6-8-4-2-8-6-5-3-7-7-9-8-1. I commit them to my memory almost as fast as they appeared on the screen.  
  
(This message will be replayed on the hour until each of you has checked in. Peace. Out.)  
  
My barcode number flashes on the screen, right before the broadcast is returned to football. I don't know who's looking for me. I was under the impression that my brothers and sisters thought I was dead. Hell, I wasn't even sure if they were alive. I'm alone, I'm confused, and right now, I'm feeling like I'm back on square one, right were I started, right after I escaped from Manticore.  
  
2  
  
3 …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
  
4 Roswell- Maria  
  
"Lemme see the letter." I try and pry the letter out of Max's hands. He's been staring at it for about an hour after he told us what the what was, which is not really getting us anywhere. I figure that if I want to get my best friend back, it'll be up to me.  
  
"I can't. I mean, um, it's sort of private, you know, and I'm not really sure how she'd feel about you guys seeing it."  
  
I think he's sort of in shock. We all are, really. The eight of us made up a happy little family—okay, a sort of dysfunctional family—but hey, nobody's perfect. Now the only one who's happy is Tess. I don't know why she would just leave like this, out of the blue. I mean, she has straight A's, two wonderful loving parents, an adoring, if not unusual, boyfriend, and the other 5 of us (excluding Tess) who love her like a sister. I'm about to reach for her letter again, but Isabel beats me to it.  
  
"Max, it says here she has a secret. Something that could endanger us…What's she talking about? Maria, you're her best friend—has she told you anything about her secret? Or is she just referring to our secret?"  
  
"Hey, I'm just in the dark about this as you are. Don't you think I'd be the first one to speak up if I knew any---''  
  
"Hey, guys, shut up! Eyes Only's on!" Alex's voice caught all of our attention. I guess all of us (the Czechs included) all see Eyes Only as some kind of personal hero—you know, like Luke Skywalker, fighting for the safety of all of the little people in the big and corrupt galaxy. So of course we all shut up and listened.  
  
(Do not attempt to adjust your sets. This is a streaming freedom video bulletin. The cable hack will last exactly sixty seconds. It cannot be traced, it cannot be stopped, and it is the only free voice left in this country. This is addressed to the X-5s out there in the world. You are in danger. You can receive more information by contacting a traceless number. This message will be replayed on the hour until each of you has checked in. Peace. Out.)  
  
We all started talking at once. "What's an X-5?" That was me. I totally don't know what the guy was talking about.  
  
"What's he talking about?" That would be Isabel, looking just as confused as I am.  
  
"It's official: He's totally lost it. I always knew that guy was off his rocker." That would be my own personal space-boy; he never really took Eyes Only too seriously.  
  
"Man, Eyes Only is so cool!" Alex's remark. Seriously, I think he wants to be the world's next Eyes Only.  
  
"Did any of you guys see those numbers on the screen?" We all stop short at Max's question.  
  
"Numbers? What numbers?" That would be me, Alex, and Kyle.  
  
"Yeah, Max…I definitely saw something…I also saw some lines that looked like barcodes, or something." We all turn to look at Isabel. Must be some alien thing. Sometimes I wonder why I even hang around with the pod squad. "I saw something too! I couldn't really make anything out, though. I wish we could see it again." That, of course, would be our 4th alien…the infamous Tess.  
  
All of the sudden, little bells go off in my head. Bing, Bing, Bing! "Hey guys? I have that on tape."  
  
"You what?"  
  
"Yeah, well, I was taping Dawson's Creek—you know how I love those oldie pre-pulse shows—upstairs, and Eyes Only hacks into all the channels, so we've got it on tape." They all look at me with amazement and we all troop to my room upstairs. Max takes control of the remote immediately and rewinds the tape. He starts playing it, and all of the sudden, all the Czechs say "There!" Fast as lightning he pauses it, and sure enough, there are 13 barcodes on the screen—I totally hadn't noticed them the first time around. And then, all of the sudden, my brain does it again. Bing, Bing, Bing goes the little bell in my brain.  
  
"Hey guys, Liz had a tattoo of a barcode just like that on the back of her neck."  
  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
  
Seattle—Logan  
  
It was presumptuous of me, I know. But I just had to figure this out. Max's family is like a big puzzle. I know we haven't been on the best of terms lately, especially after the 12 hour thingy backfired, but I know it would make her really happy to find another family member. I stared at the photo of this 'Liz Parker' for about half an hour before I noticed some markings on her neck. I put it under my magnifying glass, and, sure enough, they a row of narrow lines—which could have easily been a barcode. I reread the announcement, got online, and did a net search. I found state adoption papers, doctor's records, school files, everything I could on this girl. Still—there wasn't much to go on…17 years old, straight A student, adopted in 2009, etc…What finally tipped me off was the doctor's report. Diagnosed with mild epilepsy, which resulted in spontaneous seizures—trademark of the X-5s. I had to tell Max what I had found…I knew she wouldn't really be happy that I'd gone snooping around when she'd said to forget about it, but hey, it's my job to find out other peoples business.  
  
I'm not sure she'll really want to talk to me. I think she's afraid that the virus will somehow pass through the phone lines and kill me dead on the spot.  
  
"It's me hitting you back, what's up, Logan?"  
  
"Umm, yeah, I found some info on a possible X-5. I thought you'd want to know about it."  
  
"You WHAT?"  
  
I'm wasn't really sure what kind of response I'd get, so this wasn't really so much of a shock for me. "Yeah, umm, just come over and I'll show it to you."  
  
"I'm there."  
  
5 Max—Foggle Towers—12 minutes later  
  
So Logan's just told me everything he knows about this 'Liz Parker'. He's looking at me, waiting for me to say something, anything. I guess I'm in shock, or something, 'cause I can't seem to move my lips. Finally I whisper, "Nat."  
  
"What? So you think you know her? I thought there where only 12 of you. Who is she?"  
  
I don't know where to start. "She's…she was…I mean, I thought she was dead." I manage to get those few words, along with some uncharacteristic stuttering.  
  
"So you do know her."  
  
"Yeah, she's an X-5. The youngest of all of us. Her name was Nat. We were all so protective of her; especially me and Zack. For some reason, the guys at Manticore always seemed to push her harder than any of us, and punish her a lot worse…"  
  
((Flashback: A little girl, who is obviously Nat/Liz sits on the floor, biting her lips to keep from crying. On her back are long, red lash marks made from a whip. Beside her sits Max, who is holding her hand with one hand and has a sharp piece of plastic in the other hand. "What did they tell you?" Max asks Nat.  
  
"They said I wasn't like you all; that you weren't my family." A tear rolls down Nat's face, and she closes her eyes in physical and emotional pain. A young Zack comes in an d wipes the tears off of Nat's face. "You can't let them tell you that…they're crazy psychos who don't know what a real family is." Max takes the plastic, cuts the palm of her hand, and passes the plastic to Zack, who in turn cuts his hand. The other X-5's file into the small room and pass around the plastic; each cutting their hands with it. Finally, the plastic gets to Nat, who hesitates, and then makes a long vertical cut on the palm of her hand. They all move together and give each other high-fives, making sure that the blood mixes between each one of them. "Now we're really family. We're blood. No one can take that away from us." Nat smiles at her brothers and sisters, who smile back at her))  
  
"I thought she was dead," I continue, staring at a long scar on the palm of my hand. "She was shot in the escape from Manticore."  
  
I push other memories that threaten to take over my mind away, and look at Logan, who has concern written all over his blue eyes.  
  
"Well, she's in danger now, and we're going to have to do something to warn her." We both look at each other, and instantly know. Logan goes and gets his computer ready for an Eyes Only broadcast, and I draw out her barcode so that he can broadcast it. I have a chance to help my little sister here, and I'm going to take it.  
  
To be continued.  
  
A/N: Please review!! I will love you forever, plus I'll get the next chapter out sooner! 


	4. Just a Bug on a Windsheild

A/N—Reviews please! Come on guys, even if you hate it, or think my writing sucks, it would nice to get some reviews down. Plus I will love you forever!  
  
A/N2—For the sake of non-confusion, I've put little stars by Roswell Max's name…but I'm not sure how well they'll come out, considering none of the stuff in italics or bold has come out.  
  
Chapter 4: Just a bug on a Windshield  
  
3-6-8-4-2-8-3-6-5-3-7-7-9-8-1. I turn the number over and over in my head. I gaze down at what was once one of the greatest metropolises in the country: Los Angeles, the so called 'City of Angels'. It sure doesn't look like a city of angels right now; it looks like the rest of America: dark; broken; dangerous. I know that I won't stay long here, although the idea is tempting. It would be so easy to get lost here, so easy to never be found by Manticore or anyone else in this city of freaks. I have to turn away now, because if I don't I will get lost here; and more: I'll lose myself. I miss Max* more than I can say right now. All I want is for him to put his arms around me the way he used to and tell me that everything is going to be okay. It would be a lie, but I want to hear one. The truth is that I'm all alone and I'm being hunted by one of the most covert government conspiracies in the world.  
  
For a while there, I thought I might be okay. Thinking that I had sort of jumped the gun with the paranoia. I mean, my picture was in the newspaper, so what? That was before I saw the tall man in the dark suit asking the bus driver whether he had seen a teenage girl with long dark-brown hair on the bus. I got out of their real fast. So that's the truth. I'm not just being paranoid. I'm just someone's idea of a science project gone whack—okay, so a really valuable science project that they really want back, but still.  
  
It's times like these that I start thinking of Max. Not my handsome alien boyfriend, but the girl who was my sister and best friend for the first nine years of my life. What happened to her? Did she make it out okay? Where is she? What's her life like now? I always tell myself that she was a fighter, and that if any of us had made it, it would be her, or Zack. Zackie was my hero, the one I could always count on to take care of me…the one who was always there. I guess I always thought that he'd come back for me some time—show up on a white horse and be my knight in shining armor. But life isn't really like that—it's not some fairy tale life. There's bad people out there who want to turn little kids into soldiers to fight their wars for them.  
  
It's funny how I don't even hate Manticore anymore. I just feel really sorry for them. The truth is that their all just cowards who where insecure about their own genetic make-up and wanted to engineer other people to fight their wars for them.  
  
Beyond the endless drone of the café, I can hear Eyes Only's voice coming from the television. I have to give it to the man—he sure is persistent. This is the 8th time that message has replayed since it first did last night. It's sort of comforting. I mean, it makes me feel a little less alone, a little less like just a bug that's gone splat on a windshield…  
  
  
  
Roswell—Alex  
  
I feel like it's sophmore year, and I'm the same ignorant little Alex hacking into Tupulki's computer files. Except this isn't sophmore year. So much has changed since then, and I can't really consider myself ignorant any more.  
  
"According to these files, Eyes Only has used barcodes in one of his broadcast's before. He's also had several parallel broadcasts focusing on a covert government operation known as 'Manticore'. These files are really heavily encrypted, and even with a much more powerful modem and drive speed, I don't think I could crack them. Essentially, their designed by a hacker who's used to beating other people's encryption systems."  
  
"Uh, Alex, do you think you could speak in English please? Cause I'm not getting the whole computer talk thingy." Maria bursts out, and the others stare at me with blank looks. See how the aliens like to be out of the loop.  
  
"I can't break into this guy's files."  
  
"You guys, I hate to be all anti-climatic here, but what the hell are we going on here? I mean, yeah, Liz had a tattoo on the back of her neck, but how much does that really say? She's been kind of mad with her dad all year, and she mentioned something about her grades dropping a little. Maybe we're just overanalyzing the whole situation." Max, Maria and I glare daggers into 'Spaceboy."  
  
"No. Way. I've known Liz longer than any of you, and I know that she wouldn't just split like that. Not without telling us. There's got to be a reason." I can totally see Maria tearing herself up about this. I think she figures that she should have gotten some sort of best-friend vibes and seen this coming. But the truth is, none of us really saw it. One minute she was here, the next she wasn't.  
  
"We have to keep looking, have to trace every little lead we can. Maria's right, there has to be a good explanation for Liz leaving. She would have told us otherwise. We can't give up. Alex, see if you can find some more info on this 'Manticore' thing. Maria, go through all of Liz's personal stuff. Find out what she took and what she left, look in her papers—anything that might give us a clue as to wear she is. Michael—I need you to talk to Liz's parents—ask if they've gotten in any fights lately or anything. But be tactful. Tess, I want you to look at every form of transportation that left Roswell two days ago. Buses, trains, anything. Is, I'm going to need your help. I'm going to try to make a connection with her through your dream-walk power. Everyone, get to work."  
  
I almost want to salute and say something like, 'Hail the fearless leader!' But I know how crushed Max really is about this. I think he said more words in the last 2 minutes than he has in the last 2 days. I guess it finally occurred to him that we're all really confused here and that we need someone to take action. I just hope we get some results…For Liz's sake, and for our sanity.  
  
1 Roswell—Max—30 minutes later  
  
Izzy keeps telling me to relax, but I can't I'm so worried about Liz. I keep feeling like this is all a bad dream that I want to wake up from, but deep down I know that it's all real, and that things had to have been pretty serious for Liz to just run away like this. What I can't understand is why she didn't tell me. We tell each other everything, and it feels like it's been so long that we've had each other for support, always there for each other when things got really tough. I feel like yelling my lungs out, but I know that won't do anything—just scare the others. I have to be the 'fearless leader'. It was just always so much easier when Liz was around.  
  
"Just relax Max. Just listen to the sound of my voice. Remember the first time mom and dad took us to the beach? I sprained my ankle running in the sand, you got really sunburned, and when we went out in the fishing boat both of us puked the whole time? That's still the best vacation I've ever been on—just because it was the first time since the adoption that we had actually felt like a family. You, me, mom and dad. A team. Things seamed so much more simpler then, huh? Can you remember dinner the last night we were there? I can taste the crab like it was yestaurday…"  
  
As I listen to Izzy drone on and on about that first, horrible, wonderful vacation, I can feel myself relaxing. Just a little bit at first, but all of the sudden a lot, and the next thing I know, Is has my hand and we're dream-walking Liz. Which is weird, because she's awake. The first thing that I notice is her. She looks thin and tired, but actually not that scared—like she's trying her best to be tough like she always is. It suddenly occurs to me to look around at where she is. It looks like some kind of station, maybe a bus or a train station, and like everything else in this world it's old and rundown. I look up and see a sign: 3 p.m. to Seattle, WA. Just as I'm starting to fade out of this dream-world, I see her turn around and see me. "Max?" I hear her whisper in surprise, but by the time I start to answer I'm back in my bead room with Isabel. She looks at me questioningly.  
  
"Looks like we're going to Seattle…"  
  
To be continued.  
  
A/N: I know I'm starting to sound like a broken record but, please review!! I will love you forever, plus I'll get the next chapter out sooner! 


	5. Normal Kind of Life

Dedication: To the victims of the September 11 attacks and their families…you are in my prayers.  
  
A/N—Reviews please! Come on guys, even if you hate it, or think my writing sucks, it would nice to get some reviews down. Plus I will love you forever!  
  
A/N2—For the sake of non-confusion, I've put little stars by Roswell Max's name…but I'm not sure how well they'll come out, considering none of the stuff in italics or bold has come out.  
  
  
  
Chapter 5: Normal Kind of Life  
  
As I stand alone amongst the crowd of the huge San Francisco bus station, I suddenly feel like someone very familiar is watching me. There are only a few people who I know could watch me like that. 'Shit, it's Max*. I totally forgot about the dream-walk thing.' I don't know if he can even see me anymore, but he probably knows by now that I'm in California. There's no doubt in my mind that he'll come looking for me. It was stupid of me to linger here, but now's the time to leave.  
  
Part of me wants me to stay here, to be found and taken care of. I want someone to tell me that it's okay, so that I can pretend that the world isn't after me and that I just have some weird paranoid-delusion thing. I want things to be about someone else's life for a change.  
  
I guess that's one of the reasons I found hanging with the aliens so cool—besides the obvious about being in love with their leader—it always seemed to be about them. Sure, it wasn't safe for me, but it wasn't safe because this time I was the 'normal' person hanging around the people with the secrets. Isabel once told me that I didn't know what it was like to be hunted like some extinct animal, to have to carry around a secret that not only endangered my own life but the lives of all those who new about it. If only she knew.  
  
  
  
Seattle—Max—Foggle Towers  
  
  
  
"How many times has it been on the air?" I feel like I've watched his stupid Eyes Only broadcast a million times. I'm not being unappreciative or anything, I'm just really frustrated and I want to scream my lungs out. I'm starting to think they've already caught her, or worse, that she's dead. But I don't know, maybe I'm just being paranoid. Maybe she doesn't want to be found, or she thinks this is some kind of trap. I know I would.  
  
Logan looks almost as worried as I do. It's so sweet how he's getting all upset about not being able to find a girl that he doesn't even know. But that's what Logan does, he's always trying to help people. Sometimes I just want to go up to him and kiss him, and tell him that I love him. But the truth is I can't kiss him; I may never even be able to touch him again, and telling him I love him would only complicate things. Right now more than ever, I want a normal life.  
  
  
  
Liz—bus ride to Seattle  
  
I can feel it coming. Its subtle at first, the tip of my little finger starts to shake, but it stops just as quickly as it started. In five minutes, my whole had is shaking, and in ten, its spread to my entire left arm. I know that in half an hour my body will be seizing uncontrollably, and I'll be stuck here on this damn bus, without typhoprofin or even milk. I took my last pill yesterday when my foot started shaking out of the blue in the bus station. I've been having seizures a lot more lately, and they've progressively gotten worse and harder to stop. By this time my entire upper-body is shaking. The man sitting across from me is looking at me curiously, and I sink further down into my seat. I don't know how long this seizure will last, but considering that I don't have any medication, it won't be short.  
  
Some little kid in a few rows back is crying and his mom is holding him and telling him that everything's going to be okay. I feel like running back there and yelling "What the hell do you have to cry about?!?" I know that's not fair. I mean, I actually had two really great adoptive parents for ten years. I mean, sure, I couldn't really tell them the truth about any part of my life, but the fact is that I loved them. I had a seriously overprotective father and a good mother who I loved, and still love, as a matter of fact. If I had been normal, it might have worked out…but I'm not.  
  
Some guy has walked up to the front and is pointing me out for the bus driver to see. Great. Why can't I just have a normal life?  
  
  
  
Max—Roswell  
  
Their looking me like I'm insane. Maybe I am, but all I know is that the woman I love more than anything else in the world is out their, alone and helpless. I have to try to get her back.  
  
"Wait, so let me get this straight, Maxwell. You want us to ditch everything here—drawing a whole lot of attention to us in the process—and drive to Seattle just because you 'have this feeling that Liz is there'? Are you crazy? Your suppose to be our fearless leader, the one who makes sure I don't go out and do anything completely reckless that might jeopardize our safety, and you want us to do this?"  
  
"Look, Michael, I told you that I'd go alone. It's just something I have to do. I love her, and I can't just leave her alone out in the world like that. I have to make sure she's okay. I need to tell her that I love her."  
  
Isabel gives me the ice-princess look and I know I'm not going to be happy with what she says. "Look, Max, I'm really worried about Liz too, but you have to understand that she's the one who left you—not the other-way around."  
  
"Look, Is, I know Liz. She wouldn't just leave like this unless something really big or bad came up. I'm not asking you to go with me or anything, but I've made up my mind, and your not going to change it."  
  
"Wait a second. You aren't going alone. I'm going with you. Liz is my best friend, and best-friends don't just let each other down. I want to go to Seattle with you." Figures Maria would want to go. From the look that Michael's giving her right now, I know that he's not going to be happy about her going, but I know how close Maria and Liz were—are, and I know that she'll go no matter what Michael says.  
  
"Are you guys hearing yourselves? Obviously you didn't know Liz as well as you thought you knew her, Maxwell, because otherwise you would have known why she left. And Maria, I mean, Liz let you down first! You can't just go putting yourselves in danger 'cause Liz went AWOL on us." On the outside he looks all tough, but I can see just how worried about Maria he is, and how much he loves her.  
  
"You guys, I'm coming too. Liz has been my friend for as long as I can remember, and I know she'd do the same for me." I figured Alex would want to come too.  
  
"Well, I go where my brother goes. Lead the way, fearless leader." I can tell Izzy's really trying to be optamistic here, as if we're going on a pick-nick. But I can also see that she's also really worried about Liz, which sort of surprises me.  
  
We all begin to stare at Michael. "Well, it's not as if I'm going to let all of you go off getting yourselves killed without me. I mean, contrary to popular belief, I do care about Liz, and I'm not going to just sit here twiddling my thumbs while you all go digging graves for yourselves. I'm in." I look at Tess, who just shakes her head 'no' and runs out of the room. About fifty percent of me knows this is crazy, and ninety nine percent of me is begging for that normal kind of life that none of us really got.  
  
3 hours later  
  
As I look at the five of us all piled up in my convertible, just passing the sine that says 'The Middle of Nowhere', I think about how bizarre this really is. I mean, three of us are aliens, one of us is an oil-sniffing singer, another is some computer whiz in a band, and we're all out on the road, driving to who knows were for a girl we all love in different ways, and I know it right know, we're a family. And as crazy as my non-normal life is, I can't imagine it any other way.  
  
  
  
3 hours outside of Seattle—Liz  
  
The bus stops and I know that I'm almost there—to Seattle, I mean. I turn to the person sitting across from me to ask what time it is, and it occurs to me that she looks really familiar. Like I know her from a lifetime ago, or something. She suddenly turns to me and says, "Don't you know your own sister, Nat?"  
  
I look at her and know that she's Max. I start to call out to her, but suddenly she jumps out of the window of the bus to a guy in a wheel chair. I start to run after her, but just as I'm getting out of the bus, Max, as in alien Max, steps in.  
  
"You thought you could run. Just left us like we were dirt. Is that all we really are to you, Liz? Is that all that you and I were?"  
  
I immediately start stammering. "M-m-max? How did you find me?"  
  
"If I was blind I could find you. Even if you kill me."  
  
Suddenly, Pierce is on the bus, and, almost as in slow motion, I see him shooting Max. With lightning fast reflexes, I push him out of the way, and it's weird how I can barely feel the bullet that I know is going into my stomach. I look up at the man I love so much, and realize that he's not Max at all. I'm staring into the face of a stranger…or not.  
  
Zack's cold eyes look into mine, and the word's he say to me sound like their miles and miles away, but never the less, they ring in my mind and I know I'll never forget the disappointment in his voice. "You failed little sister. You failed all of us."  
  
I see the shot that is fired into his brain not by Pierce, but by his own hand.  
  
"Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzaaaaaacccccccccck."  
  
"Wake up dear. Dear, are you alright?"  
  
I look up to see a lady of about 70 shaking my arm gently. I sit up suddenly.  
  
"Where the hell am I? Where's Zack? And Max, and Pierce, and my sister? What have you done to me?"  
  
She looks at me as if I'm speaking Latin—which I'm actually quite fluent in—and then begins to talk as if I'm mentally disturbed.  
  
"It's very good to see that your awake, dear, but you really shouldn't sit up so quickly. Why, you passed out, and it looked as though you were having a seizure of sorts, and then you started mumbling all kinds of names. Zack and Max and whatnot. The bus driver was about to pull over, but you suddenly seemed to snap out of it. I must say that you've given us all quite a shock."  
  
She looks sincere enough to convince me that I was just having a really weird dream. "Umm…yeah, I was just having a weird dream, and as for the seizure…I'm diabetic, and I haven't had anything to eat for a while. But I'm fine now, thank you."  
  
"Well, if your certain. Now, I just asked the driver, and he says it's only a few more hours until we reach Seattle. Is their anything I can get you right now?"  
  
"Well, the one thing that always helps is, I mean, if you have any, milk really helps with the seizures…from the diabetes, I mean." I give her my best good-girl Parker smile.  
  
"Your in luck, dear, I happen to have bought a bottle at the last rest-stop that I never quite got around to drinking. I'll go get it for you."  
  
I watch her walk down the narrow bus aisle, and think about the dream I just had. Who am I, really? Am I Nat, am I Liz, or am I just X5-391, a number on a page somewhere? My mind keeps replaying the image of Zack shooting himself, of Max, telling me that I'd forgotten her, and of the man I love—saying that if he was blind he would find me. I love all of these people more than I can say, and even though I'll never have my normal kind of life, I'll always have the memories of them. And sometimes, just the memories better than a million normal lives.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED  
  
A/N: (Dodging flying tomatoes) Okay, I know this chapter pretty much sucks, but I'll try to get out a better one in a few days…Next chapter Liz is Seattle…FINALLY! 


	6. Author's Note

A note to any reader who's still interested in any of my stories (The Prodigal, Before the Dawn, and A Day in the Life of Sydney Bristow.)  
  
I just wanted to say that I haven't given up on any of my stories. I know that I haven't updated lately, but due to the death of one of my best friends this week I've been extremely depressed and I haven't written a damn thing.  
  
I'm not trying to hold my stories hostage, I just wanted to update.  
  
I hope to get back to my stories by this weekend. If you're still interested in reading any of them, please let me know…it'll be encouraging.  
  
Also, on a more personal note, I just wanted to say that if any of you haven't talked to one or more of your friends lately, or have left any arguments unsettled, or even haven't really sad anything nice to them lately—you should call them. You honestly never know when you may loose them. I don't want to be very depressing right now, I just wanted to say that death can sneak up on you—it sure did to my friend, and now, I just keep wishing that I had the chance to say goodbye to him. Don't let this happen to you—tell your friends how much they mean to you.  
  
Anyway, on a lighter note—I will be writing this weekend because I know that's what my friend would have wanted, and I'll be getting chapters of my stories out by next week.  
  
Thanks,  
  
Terin( 


	7. A Cat in the Night

Dedication: To Carlos—poet, writer, musician, and above all, friend.  
  
Author's Note. Okay. I realize that this is my first update in a while. I haven't really written in a while for personal reasons (see author's note), but I figured, hey, stop being a wimp, Terin, get back on the damn horse. So here I am…writing a really long author's note to justify my sucky writing. But before we get to the whole story part, I wanted to say a few things.  
  
Thanks so much for all your great reviews and support. You've really helped me get back to writing, guys.  
  
Umm…this is written in like ten different writing styles. Sorry. My writing's been all over the place lately (along with my emotions), so please bear with me. I guess I took a few more risks with this chapter than I usually do, but hell—life's really not that worth it if you don't take risks. I know that I go from first person to third person, to first again, but again, sorry.  
  
Okay, I'm not really sure where I'm going with the whole timeline here. Max has dumped Logan for his protection (under the whole Alec cover), as in HG (don't worry, I'll get them back together), but the transgenics have not been exposed…yet. So this is like a few eps before Freak Nation. Wow, this is a really long author's note!  
  
And now, onto your scheduled fanfic…  
  
  
  
Chapter 6: A Cat in the Night  
  
Seattle  
  
The girl looked around, taking in her surroundings. Her dark eyes quickly scanned the eyes of the people in her; she counted twenty-three, not including herself. A man with brown eyes and a red base-ball cap immediately caught her attention, and she walked over to him.  
  
"You Nat?" All the man got in response from the dark-haired girl was an affirmative nod. "Your pretty young, but that's okay. I can still use you. People trust kids." He spoke in a heavy New York accent, and appeared to be about thirty years old. "Still, I'm not sending you out on a job till I get some proof of your validity. I mean, my grandma could claim she was a world class cat burglar 'til the day was young, but I know she couldn't pick a blind and deaf man's pocket."  
  
The girl looked around the grocery store, then back at the man. "Okay, who do you want?"  
  
"I want you to get the wallet off of that boy-scout over their, then the earrings off of that fat-ass lady by the bread, and, last but not least, I'm gonna need you to get the neck tie off of Mr. Donut security guard in the corner." The girl looked at the man in disgust. She was a cat burglar, not a dirty pickpocket who looted poor-people who had to come to this low-class grocery store. She had always set her standards above the poor junkies stuck in the cheapest apartments—or worse—the streets. After some consideration, the thin, dark eyed girl set her face in grim determination, and, within five-minutes, had returned with the requested objects.  
  
"Not bad kid. You know, your kind of cute. Need a place to stay? 'Cause I might just be able to find a place in my bed for you."  
  
The girl looked at the man in disgust. "If you ever say anything like that to me again, I swear to God I will kick your skinny white ass so bad that you'll wish you never set eyes on me."  
  
"Hey, calm down babe. Your even cuter when your mad. Hey, hey don't give me that look, I was just messin' with ya. I'm not gonna do it anymore, 'kay?"  
  
"Look, first of all, don't call me 'babe'. Secondly, do you have a job for me or not? 'Cause if you do, spit it out, and if not, get your ugly face out of mine and I'll look for another job."  
  
"You've got spunk kid, but you better watch yourself or you'll end up getting dead sooner than you'd like. Yeah, I have a job for you, so keep your panties on. It's at Foggel Towers, some fancy shmancy apartment complex for rich people…your kind of gig. They say the guy in the Penthouse is loaded, and he's recently purchased a few Picasso originals that are of interest to my boss." The man handed two snap-shots to the girl, who studied them for seconds before handing them back to the man. "You don't want to keep 'em?"  
  
He looked at her with interest. She couldn't have been older than seventeen, her long dark-brown hair was tied in two braids that hung at her sides. She was petite, no bigger than five-two and looked about ninety pounds. Her 'Girl's Kick Ass' T-shirt was frayed and unwashed. 'She looks like everyone else in this world', the man thought, 'scared and broke.'  
  
"I have a photographic memory." Her answer cut into the man's observations like a knife, and he remembered that the topic had been photographs. "Yeah, whatever. Anyway, my boss want's them by Monday, which means I need 'em by Sunday, which gives you exactly two-nights, tonight, and tomorrow night to get 'em."  
  
"Sure. Whatever. How much am I getting for this?" She looked young, and the man thought it would be easy to play her. "Five grand. Take it or leave it."  
  
"Five grand? Five grand? Don't fuck with me, I'm not that naïve. I could fence them myself for at least ten, maybe fifteen." The man winced. "Okay, okay, I'll give you seven, but no more. Take it or leave it."  
  
"I'll take it."  
  
***  
  
"I think I've found something, guys." The boy at the computer whispered, as though he was afraid of his own voice, afraid of what he had found. He was tall and lanky, with black hair and brown eyes. He seemed to portray a somewhat nerdy quality about him, but his face was deadly serious as he continued on. "I think I've found something about 'Manticore'." He stumbled on the last word, as though he could not quite get it out of his mouth.  
  
"What do you have, Alex?" This question was issued from the mouth of the tall teen with dark hair and an authoritative presence who stood behind him.  
  
Alex took a deep breath before beginning, as though he had a lot to say. "Apparently, 'Manticore' is a government funded project working in genetic engineering. Their goal was to create super soldiers—using the base structure of human DNA and mixing animal and various other blood in it to create beings who were basically all powerful, at least from the human standpoint. Basically, these soldiers were designed to have super-human strength, enhanced learning and healing abilities, as well as brains beyond belief which could deal with tactical problems and battle strategies in the blink of an eye."  
  
"So what does this have to do with Liz?" Four sets of eyes turn to the shorter blond, who had voiced all of their questions.  
  
Alex answered, very slowly so as not to get anything wrong, "Well, according to my source's information, these super-soldiers, 'transgenics' as they're called, well…they all have barcodes on their necks."  
  
Isabelle's POV  
  
We're all silent for a moment, just thinking about what Alex has just said. I mean, if Maria's right about Liz having a barcode on the back of her neck, it's very possible that Liz is one of these super-soldiers, 'transgenics' as Alex said. It takes me a while to process the information.  
  
Let's face it, Liz doesn't exactly look like a super-soldier. I mean, she wears like a size 2, and the fact is that she fits the cheerleader job description a lot better than a 'transgenic'. My mind still can't get used to the word. I mean, if Liz is one of these things…it means she's not human. And that means she's something like us—in terms of the whole 'not human' sense. I think of all those times when I was a complete bitch to her, saying that she didn't know what it was like to carry around a secret, and that she didn't know what it was like to be different…and now…I feel like a fool.  
  
I stare at Max. I think he's in shock. His face hasn't changed in any way, he's still on full-blast stoic mode. I don't think he's even twitched. Poor little brother, he should have known. We all should have…  
  
Seattle—Foggel Towers—Logan  
  
Logan Cale twitched. He was depressed as hell. He knew two things: a) He hated Max more than anyone else in the world. b) He loved Max more than anyone else in the world. He didn't understand. Maybe he didn't want to. Maybe he didn't want to contemplate why Max would pick Alec over him. But he did. And the answers were fairly clear—Alec was genetically perfect. He wasn't crippled, and he had her same background story. He was the 'golden boy.'  
  
But somehow the story just didn't add up. Max had never shown any signs of anything but sisterly contempt to Alec. But who knows? Maybe he had just been a fool, a fool blinded by love. He should have known.  
  
Logan twitched again. That's when it occurred to him. Someone was in his apartment. His first instinct was Max, and then reality hit him. No, Max wouldn't really have any reason for visiting him any longer. As quietly as he could, he crept into the main room of the penthouse, a gun in his hands. A small figure could be vaguely seen in the dim light…a figure carrying a large, painting-shaped object.  
  
"Don't move! I have a gun!" The harshness of his voice seemed to startle Logan much more than it did the figure, who momentarily froze and then made a mad dash for the window.  
  
The gun snapped twice. The figure paused, it appeared that the bullet had lodged in her shoulder. Then, without a second thought, she jumped from the window…  
  
Logan flicked on the lights quickly and looked out his broken window. Though it was dark, he could see a young girl with dark black hair running away, the Picasso tucked under her good shoulder. Like a cat in the night, she had come and gone.  
  
  
  
***  
  
Max*  
  
I don't know why I didn't see it before. All I keep thinking is that I'm so stupid. I mean, who knows, maybe I wanted Liz to be the damsel in distress so that I could be Mr. Knight in Shining Armor and save the day. Who knows. Maybe I was setting myself up for this. God, I should have known.  
  
The connection should have been the first tip…when I healed her I should have picked up that something wasn't right. I was a fool.  
  
Thanks for reading guys, and please, please, please review.  
  
--Terin :-) 


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